


I know that we will be fine

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspired by Black Mirror, M/M, Malex Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Welcome to the system! Here, Coach will make romantic matches so it can learn about what you most desire in a relationship, through good ones and bad. Congratulations on choosing to participate, Alex Manes. Your first match is Michael Guerin. Good luck with the time you've been assigned, and don't forget, everything is leading up to your ultimate match!
Relationships: Alex Manes/Original Male Character(s), Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 28
Kudos: 110





	I know that we will be fine

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Crystal for the final beta for this and thank you to everyone who followed along with me!
> 
> Day 7 - Malex Week - AU of the Black Mirror episode _Hang the DJ_.

“Coach?”

“Yes, Alex?”

“What’s his name again?”

“Your date is named Michael Guerin,” the small device he’s holding speaks to him in a soothing man’s voice. It sounds a little like Kyle, if he’s honest, who he hasn’t seen in a while. Ever since Kyle got his perfect match, he and Steph have been off living in bliss and happiness and joy. It had been that joy that made Alex give in and finally accept that maybe it’s his turn to look for love.

Where better to turn than the personal Coach system designed to help you meet all the right and the wrong people, learning things from your relationships so that you could build to your inevitable perfect match. Best of all, it happened in a controlled, enclosed environment to dissuade external chaos from ruining your shot.

He’s in the system now, and Alex is ready to start. He shifts his jacket again, touching on the sleek and shiny lapels, touching up his hair one last time, and brushing his thumb over the nose ring he’d decided to wear.

It’s almost like a challenge.

It’s _him_ , as much as anything can define him, so any potential match is going to need to like it. Tonight is Alex’s first match, but god, he’s hoping that it won’t take that many before he finds the right one.

When he does, the guarantees are clear. His ultimate match is going to be the _perfect_ one for him.

It’s what happens when you’re working with a system that has a 99.8% success rate.

This is his first date in the system, which means that by the numbers, the chances of Michael being his final love seems pretty out there, but Alex is ready to keep an open mind and see what happens. He’s fidgeting with his napkin when an alert comes in from the coaching system that informs him Michael Guerin is on the premises.

Alex sits up a little straighter and looks at the men who’ve arrived at the restaurant recently.

There’s a tall redheaded guy, all limbs, ordering a drink at the bar.

There’s a East Asian man with the most gorgeous eyes Alex has ever seen checking his app.

Behind the both of them is a guy wearing a misbuttoned shirt, pushing through the crowd at the host stand, scrubbing his hands through his curly hair, making a complete mess of it as he stares helplessly through the restaurant.

“Michael Guerin has arrived,” Coach says.

Alex stares as the guy with curls heads towards his table, realization dawning on him that this late, misdressed, mild disaster of a man might just be his date. Weirdly, that doesn’t put him off. If anything, he’s kind of charmed by it. His suspicions are confirmed when the man stops at his table, staring down at him and the rose Alex has at his hand to signify who he is.

“Are you Alex?”

“I am,” he agrees, and gestures to the other side of the table to invite Michael to join him. “Were you uh, in a rush to get here?”

Michael’s gaze snaps up from the menu, alarmed by the implication. “What? How did you…?”

“I mean, either you got dressed in a hurry and were rushing to get here, or you’ve got some very eccentric views on how a shirt should be worn,” Alex gently says, learning forward to gently touch the two buttons of Michael’s shirt that are currently in the wrong holes.

This close, this forward of a touch, and he brushes against warm skin, dappled with hair. Alex licks his lips, sinking against the chair’s back to prevent himself from doing something stupid like doing Michael’s buttons up for him.

After all, maybe it is an active _choice_. Who’s he to fix it for him?

“Shit,” Michael laughs, and reaches down to unbutton himself, right there at the dinner table, giving Alex a peek at a six-pack and that hint of chest hair he’d felt as Michael’s deft fingers undo every last button, revealing no undershirt beneath. The view is gone quickly with Michael fixing it, and Alex tamps down his disappointment as he watches Michael tuck the shirt in. “I was hanging out with my sister and her current match, we got distracted I guess.”

“You’re here now,” Alex says, and he feels a little stupid already.

Michael’s been in his presence for only a few minutes and Alex has basically gone brain-blank because the man’s got a good body, he’s charming in an effortless and eager sort of way, and he’s _here_. Something about him makes him right for Alex and his journey to find love.

“Have you done this often?” Alex asks.

“You’re my third relationship with Coach. You?”

“You’re my first,” Alex confesses.

Michael laughs, bright and delighted. “You’re a system virgin, huh?” he drawls, and that smile of his takes a wicked turn. “My first two were fine. I’m bi,” he explains, “the first guy was okay, but we only got five days. My second was with a really great woman, but we had five months and it never really felt like anything more than friendship. So,” he says, spreading out his arms as he gestures to himself. “Here I am.”

“So you’ve done this already a few times. Both times, did you check in advance to see how long the system gave you or are you one of those types to let it surprise you when it comes to an end.”

“I’m usually the kind who needs to know. Why?” Michael admits, sounding curious about where Alex is going with this.

“Do people normally check their timer? See how long they have?”

“It varies,” Michael admits. “With my first, we checked. I can probably honestly say it definitely impacted how quickly we got physical. The second, we didn’t look for a while, but a few months in, I think both of us were realizing it didn’t _feel_ final, so we looked. From what I hear, the etiquette is kind of all over the place, but the way I see it, so long as we both agree, that’s all that matters.”

Instantly, Alex is thrown into a spiral of doubt.

Should he ask them to check? They haven’t exactly been here very long, but already he’s finding that he _likes_ Michael. He’s funny and handsome, he has a good relationship with his sister, and he’s open about his past. It bodes well, and Alex is starting to think that maybe they could really have something.

The thing is, this is Alex’s first time.

Since when is the first your last? And if he checks, he’s dooming himself to the possibility of having not much time at all. Yet, what Michael said is right, too.

What happens if they never check and suddenly a timer goes off and Alex hasn’t had the time to savor the relationship with Michael?

That’s what gets him, in the end.

“Do you want to check? I think I want to.”

Michael nods and pulls out his own coaching device, shifting his chair around the table so that he’s pressed up next to Alex while they look. This close, his knee brushes Alex’s, and the smell of his cologne is intoxicating. Alex has never reacted like this to anyone before, wanting to breathe him in and bury his face in Michael’s neck.

It’s a good sign, he tells himself.

There’s been so many good signs. He’s opening the app, eager to see what it says. They’re already getting along, opening up to one another, and given the way Michael’s eyes are tracing over Alex’s body, the physical attraction is there, too.

They’re going to get months, he tells himself.

Years? He yearns to be that hopeful.

He opens the app, taps on the reveal function, and stares down at…

 _Twelve hours_.

Alex stares at the timer with heavy disappointment as the seconds start counting down from there. “Oh,” he says, quietly. His gaze slides up to see Michael staring at his own timer with a similar look on his face, tapping the face a few times with his fingertip, like if he taps it enough, it might think about changing.

“Twelve,” Michael says despondently.

Alex had liked him, too. Sure, the first impression is pretty much all he had to go on, but Michael’s sweet and cute and Alex likes the way he smiles. It’s without any hesitation, like he’s willing to give his whole heart to him. His confessions have led Alex down a similar road, but now he knows there’s a dead end sign waiting for him.

Twelve stupid hours.

“I guess we shouldn’t be wasting any time,” Michael says, grabbing his napkin from his lap to crumple into a ball on the table, seeking out their waiter with his gaze. “Hey!” he summons when he catches sight of him. “Can you box up two specials to go? I got limited time,” he says, turning to Alex with a pleading look. “I don’t want to waste a single second of it. Are you in?”

He barely knows Michael. Something about the twelve hours feels wrong, though, and it’s why Alex is so determined to go along with whatever he has planned.

Alex is on his feet easily, laughing as Michael grabs his hand and tugs him towards the kitchen, excusing their movements to the other diners as they dart past tables. The kitchen staff are shouting at them for being back there, but eventually they give in and hand Michael two cardboard boxes, if only to get them out. Winking at Alex, Michael tucks them under his arm and grabs hold of Alex’s hand again.

“There are those private cabins nearby,” he says, barely stopping so that Alex can yank his leather jacket off the coat stand as they go. “Let’s go there?”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, even though there’s something that he needs to make sure Michael understands before they get there. “I don’t want to have sex tonight,” Alex hears himself saying, because twelve hours is too short a time for them to pursue that serious of a physical connection. It somehow feels wrong, too.

It feels like he’d be setting himself up for disappointment, because if they have sex and it’s amazing, no other relationship after these twelve hours will measure up.

Michael doesn’t seem too upset. “I can deal with that,” he promises. He backs into the door of one of the private cabins and nudges it open, almost tripping as his heel catches the lip of the door. Alex laughs brightly and reaches out for his collar to grab hold and pull him back in tightly, preventing him from slamming his ass against the floor and probably losing their dinner in the process.

“My savior,” Michael praises, suddenly pressed flush against Alex.

He said no sex.

Does he mean no kissing?

This close, Michael’s lips tempt Alex, but he reminds himself that setting expectations doesn’t change just because it’s only a kiss. Alex eases back from the tight hold he has on Michael, even though it pains him to do so, though he doesn’t fully let go.

Instead, he focuses on the divine smell of the food coming from the takeout boxes. “What’d they give us?”

“Prime rib,” Michael peeks into one. “And some kind of pesto pasta.” He sets them down on the nearby table, though he’s still got one arm comfortably slung around Alex’s waist, like he refuses to let go of him. Alex hasn’t told him not to, and he doesn’t think he wants to.

They might only have twelve hours, but he intends to take advantage of every single minute.

“Forks!” Michael declares suddenly, finally letting go (and letting his fingers slide over the small of Alex’s back as he pulls away from him) to get them cutlery, setting them up on a little couch at the foot of the bed.

The cabin isn’t much to talk about. It’s a single room with a small kitchenette and there’s a plush king-sized bed with a cozy forest-green duvet to set off the dark wood walls. Clearly, these cabins are meant for one thing, and seeing as there are condoms and lube in a small basket on a night stand, Alex knows what that is.

He settles in, cross-legged, and plucks a fork from Michael’s hand. “Thanks,” he says, and starts digging into both boxes, working around Michael’s fork. “So how come you decided to give the system a try?”

Michael’s chewing on a piece of meat, a little longer than he probably needs to, which feels a little like he’s stretching out his time before he has to answer. Finally, he swallows with a loud gulp, then shrugs. “It seemed like the thing to do? My brother found a match in here and he seems pretty happy about it. I guess I’m looking for that. You know? The person who gets me. The one who knows me inside and out.”

He’s staring at Alex ruefully as he speaks.

“My luck sucks, though.”

“Hmm?” Alex barely glances up, trying not to lose a few strands of melted cheese.

“I show up at the restaurant and find you sitting there, only to find out we only have twelve hours?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “It really sucks. I would’ve given anything for a few months with you. You seem like the kind of guy that I could spend ages figuring out, even if it feels like I knew you the moment I sat down across from you.”

Alex had felt that too.

He blushes, glancing around the room to avoid having to respond. “Is there booze here?” If he’s facing down the barrel of only a few hours with such a promising man, he’s going to need the alcohol to help dull the grieving ache.

Michael presses a hand to Alex’s shoulder to help himself stand, grimacing as he leaves the comfortable position they’d been in, but he returns with a couple bottles of beer from a nearby minifridge. He pries off the caps with a bottle opener on his keychain, handing the bottle to Alex.

It’s cool to the touch, which he needs. It settles his racing heart, his desperate desires that he’s trying to quiet down. What’s better than the ice cold touch of a beer against his palm? It’s singularly the best offense against a desperate need that’s been building since MIchael first walked in the restaurant.

“Cheers,” Michael salutes. “You really believe in this stuff, huh?”

“What, the system?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, tipping his head to the side to drink. He must know that he’s teasing Alex, the way he’s elongating the muscles and tendons of his neck. “You seem all rah-rah about it.”

“You’re in it too,” Alex reminds him.

“Yup,” says Michael, “and right now, I kind of hate it,” he says, his ire freely flowing. “How the hell could it give me a guy like you, then only say we get twelve hours?” He shakes his head, scoffing as he takes another long drink of the beer. “How am I supposed to trust in that?”

Alex has an answer, though, finishing up the last bite of the prime rib. “Because it gave us a chance in the first place,” he says. “Without the system, would we have ever met?” Twelve hours isn’t enough time, he agrees, but the thing is, it’s better than none.

That seems to stop Michel’s rant.

He’s taken aback, like he hadn’t expected Alex to say that.

“You’re something else,” Michael says, gesturing to Alex with the neck of the bottle. “Shame this is all we get.”

“We’re not wasting it, that’s the point.” Alex feels strongly about that. “Look, I’ve heard a lot of matches get two or three times around,” he says, leaning over to stab pieces of pesto fusilli with his fork, fighting against Michael’s. “Who’s to say this isn’t just our first time? If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”

He believes that. The system _works_.

“All right,” Michael agrees, “so how do we enjoy this?”

“Dinner, drinks, maybe watch a movie,” he suggests, gesturing to the flat screen on the wall, glancing back over his shoulder. “Cuddle up in the bed.”

“Thought you said no sex.”

“Spooning doesn’t count.”

“Okay,” Michael replies, sounding surprised as he pushes the takeout container of pasta towards Alex so he can finish the rest of it. “I picked the beers and the food. You pick the movie,” he says.

They end up curled up on the bed finishing the last dregs of the beer while they watch _Mars Attacks!_ The two empties are left on the nightstand and Alex adjusts back into Michael’s waiting arms. For the majority of the movie, little is said, but Alex learns that Michael always roots for the aliens in these movies, that his favorite date-spot outside of the system is the drive-in, and as he speaks, his thumb rubs in circles against Alex’s shoulder as he talks about his first time -- making out in the light of the television before it turned into more.

Alex doesn’t share as much, mainly because the looming threat of their twelve hours hangs over his head.

The movie ends and they only have six hours before time is up.

“I know you said no sex,” Michael says, once they’ve packaged up all the trash, cleaning up after the credits roll to an end. “But I have a request anyway, and you can say no,” he promises, even though he clearly wants whatever it is. His body language screams it, from the fidgeting of his fingers to the way he’s shifting his weight. He settles on the bed, leaning back on his elbow as he studies Alex from where he’s artfully sprawled out.

Alex is willing to bite. “Try me.”

“Can I touch you? While we spoon, can I touch you?”

“Nothing below the belt,” Alex hates that his conscience is insisting on holding this line. He’d been so determined to avoid sex, even though every passing hour makes it harder to remember why.

Michael stretches out on the bed, coaxing Alex to join him.

First, Alex presses one knee on the bed, slowly approaching as he crawls towards him. “How about if I hold you?”

“Is there still going to be touching?”

Alex nods, unable to suppress his delighted laugh. “Yeah,” he vows, and stretches out over Michael’s back, wrapping both arms around him as he tugs him back in, sliding his knee in between Michael’s. He’s snugly pressed in, wrapped up around him, and slides his fingers over Michael’s chest, fingertips dragging down the soft fabric of the button-down. “This flannel?”

Michael makes a soft confused noise. “Dunno. It’s whatever my sister pulled out of the closet to give to me. She wanted to make sure I made a good impression.”

“I think you misbuttoning it is what made that impression,” Alex admits, rubbing his thumb along those buttons, breath catching when he slips it inside and brushes against the warm skin on display from earlier. “You swear you didn’t do it on purpose?”

“I was running late,” Michael protests, “You’re lucky my shoes matched.”

“Would you have taken those off too to fix them?”

This close, his breath glides against the back of Michael’s neck, brushing the curls aside and beckoning Alex to kiss the skin. It takes absolutely all his resolve not to, settling instead for brushing the tip of his nose against the warmth of the skin.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Michael pleads. “Tell me something instead.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Hobbies? Your job? What you’re gonna do with your next pairing?”

Alex huffs out a laugh, because that’s a lot of questions.

“I make music in my spare time.”

It’s better talking about that than his job, which can bore even the most invested of his coworkers on a good day. Besides, when Michael discovers Alex’s deep abiding love for emo punk, they hit their first real speedbump.

“That shit?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t say that,” Alex warns, pinning Michael to the bed by the shoulders so he can look him in the eye. “My teenage self wants to fight.”

“I mean, aesthetically, I get it,” Michael laughs, as Alex keeps pinning him back every time he even so much as makes a move to try and push back against him. “They’re hot.” He reaches up to brush his thumb against the septum ring with the pad of the thumb, making Alex loosen his hold on Michael. “Are they the ones who inspired your fashion taste?”

“Maybe,” Alex admits, wrapping his arms around Michael again to settle back in. “You really think the music is shit?”

“I think country music is the be-all and end-all of music genres, I’ve been told my opinion counts for nothing,” Michael assures him, wriggling back into Alex’s arms. “Tell me more about music. Do you write anything? Perform?”

Alex never talks about this. No one ever really wants to hear about it, but for the next hour, Michael listens intently as Alex talks about what creating music feels like to him. He talks about leaving high school under his father’s thumb and trying to strike out and learn who he was with middling success, but how music had been there all along.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been talking until he catches Michael yawning.

“I know,” Alex apologizes. “It’s a lot.”

“Are you kidding? It’s amazing,” Michael protests sleepily. “It’s just the middle of the night and I don’t want to waste a single second. It’s just kind of rough when your body isn’t on the same page. Keep talking.”

Alex isn’t sure he should. He’s so used to modifying and suppressing his own personality to fit in that it seems strange that someone wants to get to know the real him. It feels like a trap is coming, but so what if it does?

In a few hours, Alex is going to lose Michael.

He wants (he needs) to take advantage of the time while he can.

So he gives in. He starts raving about chord arrangements and the ideal songs he’d love to play. He talks about how he bought his first leather jacket (and how it’s the one he’s wearing tonight), and talks about his old dreams of becoming a rock star and how they’ve faded.

The hours creep on, the early hours of day starting to hit the both of them, but Alex is committed to enjoying every last moment he can with Michael.

The timer only has a few hours left, but Alex knows he doesn’t want to go anywhere.

Michael is warm in his arms, shivering every time Alex brushes his thumb in tiny little motions over his wrist. Neither of them have fallen asleep, though they’ve both lapsed into periods of silence where Alex or Michael push their self-set boundaries with soft touches that feel more intimate than anything he’s ever had before.

“I told you why I’m here. What about you? How come you put yourself in the system?” Michael asks, as bird-song starts up, signalling sunrise and the inevitable end of this short relationship.

Alex gives a quiet hum, trying to remember the moment he did. “I’ve heard good things about it. People seem happy with their ultimate matches, and I guess I got tired of being alone.”

“I take it you’re not a true relationship virgin, then?”

“Only to good ones,” Alex confesses with a rueful laugh. “I grew up in a really closeted place. It wasn’t good,” is an understatement that feels trapped beneath the choked emotions he’s trying to keep down. “This seemed safe. It’s controlled and comes highly recommended because it was built by the smartest minds. If I’m going to find my perfect match anywhere, I figure it’ll be here. I’m tired of being a fake version of myself and I’m hoping this place finds someone who loves the real me.”

“I get that,” Michael says quietly.

Alex presses his lips to the soft warm skin at Michael’s neck, knowing that it will tickle, telling himself it doesn’t count as a kiss. He squirms a little, but doesn’t tell Alex to stop. He holds him closer, knowing that their time together is ticking down every second, and the ache begins to build in his chest.

How the hell is anyone going to top this comfortable feeling?

“Do you think we could be friends after this?” Alex wonders.

The silence from Michael is harrowing and awful, and instantly, Alex thinks he’s fucked up.

“Do you think that we could see each other and be friends and not want to actually try something?” is Michael’s hoarse reply. “Cuz I promised myself I’d give this place, the system, a real try. I don’t know if I could stick by that if we kept seeing each other. Besides,” he says, his voice ever quieter, barely more than a whisper, “the system is supposed to know what it's doing. If we’re meant to be, we’ll get another shot.”

He’s right.

Alex hates it, but he’s right.

If he ends up friends with Michael, he knows that he’s never going to give anyone else a fair shot, which isn’t right. He’s here to meet his perfect, ultimate match. Stringing along his first pairing isn’t going to help anyone.

“An hour and fifteen,” Michael says.

“Let’s stop checking,” Alex pleads, and closes his eyes as he presses his forehead to Michael’s curls, breathing in the scent of his cologne (like rain soaked into the earth), and trying to use this as a beacon for what’ll come in the future and not a depressing reality that it might never get better.

Michael nods, but says nothing, and reaches back to grasp Alex’s hand, tangling their fingers together. Together, they breathe in and out, as if they’re connected. There’s no movement that isn’t matched, and Alex feels the ache in his chest grow to think that he’s about to lose it.

“What about your next pairing?” Alex finally asks.

The sun is coming up through the windows, hitting the hardwood floor, and it’s something he’s been dreading. It’s almost over.

“I’ll show up and see what this place has in store for me,” Michael says, “and I’ll probably think of you the whole time.”

That one hurt and Alex makes a noise like he’s been wounded.

“Too honest?” Michael asks.

“Maybe. Probably because I’m going to do the same.”

“Fuck,” Michael groans, letting out a pained sound into the pillow, but there’s no point trying to muffle it. Alex can feel the way he roughly inhales through his nose by the shudder of Michael’s body, and besides, he feels the same. “This place better give us a second chance.”

“I believe it will. I know it.”

Alex’s faith in the system is the prelude to their final moments together, curled around one another. In the last five minutes, Alex forces himself to disentangle from Michael’s body, pacing around the room to calm himself down before the timer goes off and their match comes to an end.

“Two minutes left,” Michael says roughly, which means they’re back to checking.

“I know,” Alex says, hating the onslaught of bitter regret he feels, even if he’d mentally prepared himself for loves that would be lost while he’s in here.

With their twelve hours up, Alex knows he has to walk away.

It’s for the betterment of his ultimate match. The system learns something about what happened in the last twelve hours to apply to the person who’s meant to be with Alex forever.

If it’s not Michael, then Alex wonders who the hell could be his ultimate match, because it’s going to take a hell of a lot to beat that. He steadies himself with that thought in mind, knowing that his first match can’t possibly be the best, and begins to walk away towards his waiting ride-share, exhausted, but not willing to trade in a single moment of his date for sleep.

“Hey,” Michael calls after him before he can leave, “Alex! You forgot your jacket.”

He shakes his head, staring at the leather jacket that he’d worn to keep his defenses up, only to pry them down brick by brick, because he wanted to let Michael see every part of him. “Keep it,” he says. “Twelve hours isn’t near enough for what I wanted to have with you. You should get a part of me, even if Coach doesn’t agree.”

It hurts to know that the next time he turns away from Michael, it could be for good.

That’s what this system is about, though.

Alex tells himself that some heartbreaks are to be expected. It wouldn’t be a path to finding his true match if there weren’t some obstacles along the way.

“It was nice getting to know you, Alex Manes.”

“You too, Michael Guerin,” he replies, walking backwards towards the car waiting for him. “Take care,” he insists. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll see one another again.”

“Then I’d better hope I’m getting lucky,” Michael says, gripping the side of the door to the cabin, staring at Alex mournfully.

His button-down is a wrinkled mess, there are pillow marks on his cheek, and his curls are pressed down. He’s sleepy, he’s exhausted, and all Alex can think as he walks away from his first pairing is that he would’ve given anything to have a thousand more sleepy mornings with Michael.

The sound of the closing car door echoes like a gunshot. Within moments, they’ve pulled away from the cabin and Michael is no longer in sight.

“Match concluded,” Coach announces when Alex checks his app. “Thank you, Alex. We’ve adjusted your preferences and your experience in the app. I’ll inform you when you have a new pairing. Congratulations.”

He doesn’t feel like there’s anything to celebrate as he gives instructions to go back to the apartment he’s renting out while he’s in the system.

Alex thinks about what he told Michael. Twelve hours are better than none, which means that he needs to think about the relationship for what it was and not what it could have been.

The system will find the right match for him.

This is just the first step and it’s been an incredible one.

* * *

If easy is what Alex had been expecting going in, those hopes begin to fade quickly as he continues onwards in his quest for love.

Every time he questions the relationships he’s been put in, Coach reminds him that the system is learning about who he is, what he likes, and what he wants. It’s all for the greater good. Still, Alex yearns desperately for those twelve hours with Michael, when things felt genuinely hopeful and like they’d connected, like something…

He doesn’t know the word he’s looking for.

He just knows that with Michael, it had seemed effortless and easy. Ever since, his next matches are...not.

There’s Grant.

Grant grinds his teeth in his sleep. He won’t even try Alex’s favorite foods. Even though they’re together for three months, he never once goes down on Alex because it goes against his beliefs about what a boyfriend should do. The last hour of that relationship involved Alex staring desperately at Coach to watch the seconds tick away to nothing.

There’s Harold.

He’s older than Alex by five years, which doesn’t seem like it should be an issue. It turns out to be, because Harold wants to settle down into a marriage, or something resembling it. He never wants to go on dates, he doesn’t want to have sex, and at one point in their four-month pairing, Alex comes home to twin beds.

There’s Connor.

Connor is a know-it-all and is lucky that Alex hasn’t put his fist through his teeth, which is only because Alex doesn’t believe in that kind of violence. If he has to hear another, “Well, actually…” from him, though, he might suddenly revisit his stance. He isn’t even attractive enough to make up for his devil’s advocate insistence, and despite his tendency to nitpick, he won’t stand up for Alex or himself when the chips are down. He spends seven months with Connor and if he never hears the words ‘well’ and ‘actually’ after that, it’ll be too soon.

His most recent match is the one that’s confusing him the most, because there’s no red flag. There’s nothing that should make him unsatisfied, but he is and it’s impossible to ignore.

Forrest is nice enough, he’s sweet, but something seems to be missing. It’s left Alex feeling like the system is broken. It’s left him feeling like it’s wrong. It gave him Michael in the very beginning and that had been the only match that really felt right to him. His relationship timer with Forrest is his longest one yet. Thirteen months of his life, with this man, and so far, it’s good. It’s fine.

Yeah, Forrest has a tendency to push Alex outside of his comfort zone, but that’s fine. Public displays of affection in a society that doesn’t care should be fine. It’s Alex’s fault that he’s uncomfortable with them, and he reminds himself that Forrest is only trying to help him grow. Forrest spends more time wanting to read on his own than going on dates, especially in the later months, but Alex stares at the timer and knows that it doesn’t really matter, does it?

This relationship is going to end, too.

It’s just unfair that he got thirteen months with Forrest and he never even got a thirteenth hour with Michael.

He leans into it, because if the system is going to learn about him, Alex wants it to understand one thing --

The time he felt most alive, the time he felt most like himself, when he felt hopeful had been during those first twelve hours. If Coach is going to learn about him, then it needs to learn that he wants one thing.

He wants Michael Guerin.

“Babe?” Forrest calls over to him from the kitchen.

They’re down to their last two weeks and Forrest has insisted that they celebrate their relationship, completing a total 180 on his stance on staying in at night. Every night has been an event and a spectacle. They have picnics and go out for open mic nights and concerts. It’s beginning to get exhausting, but Alex can do it knowing that he only has a few weeks left. Besides, it is kind of charming in its own way.

For another man, this is probably a romantic dream come true. For Alex, it leaves him tired and wanting to go back to bed, missing the days when Forrest preferred data-collecting over dating.

“What do you want for dinner tonight? We’re going to the fireworks display later,” Forrest reminds him, his voice filled with excitement.

Alex had stopped having too strong opinions halfway through their match. Forrest knows who he is, absolutely and completely, and he wants Alex to experience it too. It means their friends, their events, even their food tends to be ‘an amazing discovery’ that Forrest had found, which had worked for a long time.

He’d been exposed to so many cool new things and places and people as a result, but it means letting someone else have the driver’s seat.

Thirteen months in, Alex is working on autopilot. “You choose,” he suggests.

Forrest ducks his head into the living room, lighting up like Alex has said those big three words (that he hasn’t said in their entire relationship). “I found this incredible new crepe place,” he raves. “You’re gonna love it, we can grab things on the way to the park. I rented us bikes!” He hurries to Alex’s side to kiss his forehead, tugging at his hands. “I even bought you this really cool vintage jacket. You kept shivering the last time we were out, I was thinking…”

He keeps rambling about the jacket even as he heads to the bedroom to find it for Alex.

Two more weeks, and then this will vanish, too.

It’ll be easier to walk away this time, though.

He’s had so much time with Forrest and he’d kept waiting for that same connection to appear that tied him to Michael, but while things were always comfortable and fun and perfectly fine, they never struck that cosmic note that made him feel like he’d found his other half.

With Forrest, he’s found an amazing friend and confidant. He’s found someone who’s helped him to open up and be himself. For the first time, he thinks the system really did it right by giving Alex someone to grow with, while it learned about him.

It’s still not going to be hard when the day comes to walk away. He knows Forrest will still be his friend after, they’ve talked about it in length. With Forrest, he’s got a friend, but not a life partner.

“You ready?” Forrest asks, holding the jacket out for him when he returns. “Two weeks left. We gotta live it up.”

Unbidden, Alex’s mind drifts back to those final few hours with Michael. He thinks about what they could do with two weeks, though a part of him suspects they wouldn’t leave the bedroom.

Still, crepes and fireworks sound fun, and the jacket really is nice (since Alex hadn’t bothered to replace the leather jacket after he gave it to Michael). And so on they go, ready to celebrate their countdown.

* * *

Alex is exhausted when the final day with Forrest comes, mainly because the safety and familiarity of his cozy life is coming to an end.

Forrest has all of his things, ready to move out of the house, but not before he gives Alex one last affectionate kiss to the corner of his lips. “Good luck when you find your one,” he says warmly. Alex feels like he wants to cling, not because he wants to stay with Forrest forever, but because he’s familiar and someone that Alex could’ve stuck with, if only for his sanity.

He’s better than all the others he’d been saddled with (with one glowing exception).

“I expect an invitation to yours,” Alex had told Forrest, grateful that if nothing else, he’d made a friend out of this.

“First one on the list,” Forrest guarantees, brushing one last kiss to Alex’s temple, smoothing it over with his thumb after. “Good luck, Alex Manes. I hope your next match treats you well.”

“He’d better, or I know you’re gonna go after him.”

Forrest nods, preening proudly like Alex has got his number. After this long, of course he does.

Alex wraps the comfortable throw that he and Forrest had bought at the farmer’s market around his shoulders to keep warm as he watches Forrest leave, grateful now more than ever that they hadn’t adopted a dog like they’d talked about doing.

He’s not sure he would’ve been able to let a dog go, but he’s okay with watching Forrest leave.

If he had any doubts about Forrest not being the one, that thought solidifies it.

Once Forrest’s ride is gone from sight, Alex turns back to look at the house, dreading the emptiness waiting inside for him. He ducks back in, but only to dump the blanket in a pile at the door, grab his vintage denim jacket adorned with buttons (Forrest’s last gift to him had been decorating the piece of clothing), and locks up, needing to be anywhere else.

His device is safely in his pocket, but he doesn’t know that he wants to check for his next match just yet.

Alex heads out to the lakefront and parks himself on a bench, irritated by all the happy couples canoodling nearby. He really could use some alone time after being with someone for thirteen months, yet that loneliness he’s felt since he joined the system hasn’t gone away. That feeling makes him want to chuck his device into the lake, but he doesn’t because deep down, he has faith.

The system works.

The system has been tested. He needs to trust in it.

His device beeps at him, signalling a new match. In his shock, Alex nearly drops it, wondering if somehow, they’d known that he’s been questioning it. It’s uncommon to get a new match this quickly, though not unheard of. Besides, the faster that Alex goes through his matches, the sooner he gets to his ultimate pairing, his perfect match.

It’s still a little unnerving, having the system match him up again at the exact moment that he’s been debating leaving. Opening the device, he nearly fumbles it in genuine shock as his paranoia that he’s being watched grows.

Next Match!

Beneath that exclamation is a name he knows.

“Michael,” he breathes out in shock, closing his device and reopening it to make sure he’s not seeing things.

It’s there. It’s real. Unless there’s another Michael Guerin currently in the system, he’s been given a second chance with him. The last few years suddenly don’t matter. It doesn’t matter that he’s felt like he’s wasted his time, he’s finally getting a chance again with Michael. It’s almost like the system knows it made a mistake.

He’s trying to ignore the voice in his head that says it hasn't given him an ultimate match, but that’s fine. Some couples find out that they’re one another’s happily ever after by checking their timers only to find that they don’t have an expiry date.

Maybe he and Michael will be like that.

Instantly, he opens his device to text Michael and set up a date, but Michael’s beat him to it.

I want to see you right now.

He’s not far at all. Alex is already moving, desperate to get to the coordinates Michael’s left for him. He’s forgotten all his misgivings about the system, glancing down to his device as he keeps moving, seeing Michael reading a book under a willow tree near the opposite side of the lake, stumbling to his feet the minute Alex comes into view.

“Hey!” he shouts, his voice filled with relief and glee, “You looking for a new match?”

“Alex!”

He thought he’d been walking quickly, but he’s got some steam left in him. Those last few yards, he starts to run, desperate to get back to Michael. It’s been years since their first date, but Alex knows that there’s never been a connection the same as that first one.

He’d told Michael, years ago, that he hadn’t wanted to have sex; that he didn’t even want to kiss. With this second chance, he knows that those old concerns are out the window. Grant, Connor, Harold, Forrest, they all taught the system something, but he thinks that the system needs to learn one lesson before it can truly understand Alex Manes -- the only person Alex has felt right with is Michael.

This is his match.

He nearly topples them both over when he gets to Michael, crashing into him with a tight embrace, gripping at his sweater like a drowning man clinging to a rope. It’s so soft under his hands, a cream cable-knit thing. Michael has to rock back on his heels to prevent them from falling over, but he grabs at Alex’s hips and steadies him.

“See?” Alex breathes out in relief. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you we’d get another chance.” He grabs Michael’s cheek, his other hand wrapping around his neck, pressing their foreheads together.

“Do I get to kiss you this time?” Michael pleads.

Alex laughs with relief, and looks down at Michael’s lips, breathless as he thinks about how they get to do this again. This time, it has to be better. The system didn’t tell him that it’s a final match, but it doesn’t mean it’ll be short and sweet. This time, he knows it’s going to be better.

“First, we check. Then, we kiss.”

“You just want to know how many days I’ll get to kiss you,” Michael teases, light and carefree. He pulls out his device at the same time as Alex does. “You wanna push my buttons?” he whispers as Alex keeps a hold on him.

“You press yours, I press mine,” Alex says. “You know it’s encoded to our fingerprints,” he reminds him, a gentle chiding as he allows his excitement to build, thinking of a kiss every day -- imagining a year of kisses, two years, ten.

He’s laughing with glee at the thought of it, pressing the ‘reveal time’ button on the app. He hasn’t budged from where he’s holding Michael, entranced by the soft smile of his lips, the flush rosiness in his cheeks and…

...and the dismayed flash of betrayal in his eyes.

Panicked, Alex looks down at his device to see why Michael is looking like that, quickly seeing all his dreams of daily kisses evaporating before his eyes. “No,” Alex lets out a frantic and pained sound.

His hand falls away from Michael’s cheek as he stares down at his device and sees the expiry time. It’s not supposed to say that. That’s not what it’s meant to say. This is supposed to be the system fixing its mistake, not making a new one.

Thirty-six hours.

“No,” Alex breathes out, like he can’t believe it. He hasn’t dared look up at Michael again, still processing the grief he feels from finding out that the man he thought he’d finally got back wasn’t going to be his.

At least, not as his perfect and ultimate match.

“Fuck this.”

Alex is pissed, sure, but Michael’s sudden vitriol catches him off guard. He’s heartbroken, but anger hasn’t occurred to him yet. He’s still wrapped up in grief and the slow weariness of exhaustion like a net tangling up his limbs.

“This whole thing is stupid! Alex, come on, think about it! We’re trapped and not just because we’re in this place looking for our true pairing. We keep getting trapped in relationships that are supposed to prepare us, but the last girl they had me with, this Lindsey girl, I lived with her for almost a year, but I never loved her!” Michael shouts, gesturing frantically at the system around them. “I don’t think I could. I know who I want to be with, and it isn’t her or anyone else this system matches me with.”

Alex’s grip on his device only tightens as he tries to ignore the part of him that agrees, because deep down, he knows he hasn’t felt the same about anyone as he does about Michael, but the system wants them to believe all they have are the next thirty-six hours together.

He trusts in the system.

“Alex, please,” Michael begs. “We need to stop letting these things control us. If this place is only giving us thirty-six hours, then I say fuck this place. Let’s get out of here, together. Let’s climb the wall, get past the guards and escape together. I want you to come with me, I want to see what kind of life we can have. Please,” he pleads.

Alex isn’t sure he’s ready to run away. “It’s going to give us the right people for each other.” Even to his own ears, it sounds weak.

“What if we’re the right people for each other?” Michael pleads.

“Then we’ll be each other’s final match. I believe that, Michael, I know that if we’re meant to be together, we will be.” Thirty-six hours. The memory of that countdown fills him with icy dread, because it might be three times as long as last time, but it’s still not enough. “So, you have to decide,” Alex says. “Either you go climb that wall and you leave without fulfilling your contract with the system, or you spend the next thirty-six hours with me, which is three times as long as before.”

Michael gives a pained exhale, shaking his head.

“It’s not fair for you to ask that,” Michael mutters.

“Why?”

“Because you know I’m choosing you.” He reaches for Alex and grabs him by the neck, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m not kissing you. And you know why? Because your stupid system better put us together again, and I’m not kissing you until I know that you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Alex closes his eyes, letting those beautiful words wash over him. He believes in them almost as much as he does in the system, and it’s what’s going to fuel him when this is over and he has to walk away from Michael again.

“We’ve got thirty-six hours with no kissing and no sex. What do you want to do?”

“I want to show you all the incredible places I’ve found in here,” Alex whispers.

Every time Forrest or another boyfriend had introduced them to Alex, some voice in the back of his mind had whispered ‘what if you did this with Michael’ and they’ve got three days to explore it all.

On the first day, they eat crepes, they visit a rock-climbing part of the nature preserve, and they learn even more about one another. Alex learns that Michael’s an agricultural engineer and that he’s an off-the-charts genius. He sits there in bed and listens to Michael play guitar for him, loving Michael’s shy eagerness to share the songs he’s learned since their first pairing. Alex’s breath catches when Michael plays a country-western inspired arrangement of a Brendon Urie song.

On the second day, they wake up tangled together in t-shirts and boxers, and despite the no-kissing rule, they end up curled up until breakfast is long over. Michael takes him for brunch and then to the library to show him his favorite books. Alex brings him to a local bar with great booze and better music. That night, they curl up together under a blanket and watch the fireworks reflecting off the domed sky, the system’s physical barriers illuminated by the neon colors.

That night, Michael asks them to take the long way home. Eager to extend their time getting to know one another, Alex agrees, but even he notices how the long way takes them along the security perimeter and the access panels of the wall that encircles the system.

Alex is expecting the topic of running away to surface again, after that.

It takes until the final hours for it to happen. They’re outside, stargazing, though only Alex is on his back with his eyes fixed on the stars. Michael’s on top of him, and every time Alex reminds him about the show he’s missing, he insists that there’s a much more impressive show beneath him.

With one precious hour left, Michael brings it up again.

“Run away with me,” he says, steely and determined. His knees press a little tighter as he straddles Alex, as if he can keep him here until he listens to his persuasive arguments.

“That’s not how the system works.”

“Why are you so stubborn about this?” Michael snaps, but it’s not purely anger that’s unleashed. Alex can hear the wounded desperation in his voice, like someone who’s had issues with not being picked before. “We’re here now, we’re together. Who’s going to stop us if we climb that wall and get out of here?”

“Because it’s supposed to work!” Alex is on his last nerve, too, which is why he lets his frustrations loose. “This is an impeccable design! If we’re meant to be together, then we’ll get matched! I really believe that,” he swears, even though there’s a part of him that’s begun to doubt that.

Haven’t the last few years been proof that this place seems more adept at making him miserable than leading him to the person he already knows he feels most connected with?

“If I wasted the last few years suffering through sub-par relationships, this place owes me a perfect match,” Alex protests. “If we run away, then what was it all for?”

“It was to meet you,” Michael says, but he’s climbing off Alex, sitting beside him and staring at him like Alex’s words have wounded him. “You don’t want to come with me.” Alex opens his mouth to reply, but Michael reaches out and presses his fingers to Alex’s lips to stop him. “Don’t say it. You don’t have to. I already know you’re not coming with me,” he says instead, the finality crushing to Alex’s ears, even if he’s the one making that choice.

“One day, it’ll be right.”

“And if it’s not?”

Alex can’t fathom a world in which he and Michael don’t end up together. He genuinely can’t picture it, but he doesn’t know how to convince Michael to be patient. One day, they’re going to have the right start and the right story, but it’s not yet.

Why Michael won’t believe it too is beyond him.

It’s too soon when the timer goes off and their pairing comes to an end.

Alex is still sitting on the ground. He’s not going to run away.

From the way Michael stares at him, hurt and betrayed, Alex has to wonder at the potentially permanent damage he may have done to their hopes for a future. “I can’t,” he apologizes, wishing that he could somehow convince Michael to have hope in them. “I know it’ll work out, Michael.”

“How?” Michael challenges.

“Because I know that you’re the one for me, too. This place, this system, it has to know it too. We’re just learning who we are, along the way,” Alex protests weakly, feeling like his passionate defense of the system has started to erode, mainly because Michael is standing and starting to drift back.

Michael shakes his head. “We had our chance,” he says roughly. “We had two chances. You’re hoping for a third that I don’t think is going to happen.”

“And you’re writing us off before we even get there,” Alex snaps at him. “Go, then. If you want to escape, then leave. I’m staying. I’m waiting for my ultimate match.”

He’s waiting to be told that Michael Guerin is his happily ever after.

He doesn’t get another argument from Michael. Instead, Alex is forced to watch him walk away in the dark, inky night, until his figure disappears with the other shadows around the lake. Alex takes in a deep, shaky breath as he tugs his knee towards his chest, trying to convince himself that he’d done the right thing.

“Thank you, Alex,” Coach says from his device. “We have updated your profile with new learnings.”

It takes every ounce of restraint for Alex not to throw the damn thing in the lake.

After that, Alex doesn’t see Michael again, not even in passing.

He hears from mutual friends that Michael had spent a long period not matched with anyone, before being with a woman who had spent most of their pairing cheating on him. It stings Alex to know that, because it’s only proof for that seed of doubt within him that asks if the system is really going to find someone better for him than Michael.

And Alex -- well, Alex has felt like he’s missing something, like a limb cut from his body.

He feels like he’s going through the motions, like he’s underwater. Henry is boring and only wants to talk about his cat through their five-day relationship. Liam sings off-key and too-loudly in the shower and Alex develops a teeth-grinding habit during their four months. He counts down the days of his eight-month pairing with Simon, who wants to keep them in the closet because he’s ashamed of who he is.

And then, one day, Coach has news he’s never heard before.

“Your previous relationships have all led to this. Your ultimate match has been found!”

It should be the best news he’s ever heard, but Alex is beyond stressed. He’s desperately worried, because he knows that all his former matches have been teaching the system who he is, what he wants, and who his ultimate match should be. Michael, Alex knows in his heart. It should be Michael. He’s had two attempts with him, and the truth is that he still regrets not escaping with Michael when they had the chance.

If it isn’t Michael, then this entire process has been a waste. It can’t have been, but that does nothing to eliminate the anxiety.

Maybe this is the time when it all rights itself. He’s spent nearly a decade holding out hope for Michael, to be told that all the suffering through bad or lukewarm relationships is a prelude to a cosmic reunion with the one man he thinks he might love.

It’s going to be Michael, he knows it. Alex is beaming as he digs out his device, eager to have his hopes confirmed.

It’s only one more click in the app, then the name and image will be revealed.

His ultimate match is...

Someone named Jack, with gleaming white teeth, a head of perfect hair, and too-symmetrical features. Alex swallows back bitter disappointment, knowing in his heart that it’s wrong. The only ultimate match he wanted was Michael.

“You can have one farewell meeting of your choosing before your ceremony,” Coach informs him cheerfully, that stupid robot voice making Alex wish the app was sentient so that he could punch it in his face. “Your time with this penultimate match will be set when you arrive at your designated meet-up prior to meeting your ultimate match. Please state who you would like to select.”

Instead, Alex knows in his heart what he wants. “Michael Guerin,” he insists. “I want to see Michael.”

“You’ll have a pre-designated amount of time together tomorrow,” Coach says pleasantly, oblivious to the fact it’s gone and broken Alex’s heart by giving him the wrong match. “Congratulations, Alex Manes, and thank you for being a part of our system.”

The next day passes in a blurry haze. Congratulations come in from his friends about his ultimate match, vowing to be there at the ceremony. The initial meet-up spot is picked for him by Jack and he receives a charming email talking about how excited he is to spend their lives together and even though he seems pleasant and polite and handsome, Alex feels nothing but horror.

What’s all this been for, if not to be with Michael?

At least he gets to see Michael one last time.

The next day, Coach sends Alex the coordinates to the restaurant he’ll be meeting Jack in. Their friends have been invited for a lunch with lots of alcohol to celebrate.

“And Michael?” Alex asks on the drive over, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shiny burgundy suit jacket. “Will Michael be there?” he asks Coach about the only thing that matters.

“Michael Guerin is waiting for you at the restaurant. Your penultimate meeting will conclude and then you will go to your ultimate match. Once you have met Jack, your Coaching system will deactivate.”

Alex gnaws on the pad of his thumb for the remainder of the drive, staring up at the restaurant once he arrives. He’s not ready to face the happy enthusiasm of his friends, so he ends up taking the back stairs up to the top of the restaurant, heading straight for an area set up outside the patio restaurant, hidden away behind a curtain.

He ends up pacing there for ten minutes, but soon, Coach gives him the good news.

“Michael Guerin has arrived.”

“Tell him where I am,” Alex instructs Coach, trying to steady himself.

His eyes fix on the door to the back stairs, not sure what he’s going to feel when Michael walks in that door, but knowing that he has to see him again. Soon enough, he doesn’t have to wait. Michael arrives and the minute he steps into the room, everything feels right again.

“Alex,” Michael says softly. He’s wearing a threadbare blue long-sleeved shirt and jeans, with his boots capping it off. He’s also wearing Alex’s leather jacket.

He’s here.

When this is over, Alex is supposed to walk out into the rooftop patio and meet his forever, his ultimate match. Yet, Alex stares at the jacket and how it fits Michael so perfectly. It fits the way they fit together, somehow right and perfect without needing to strain or change things.

“Hey, handsome,” Michael says, stepping towards him as he cups his cheek. Alex practically melts into the touch, letting out a shaky sigh. “Do you want to check?” Michael asks, but Alex doesn’t even need to answer. Alex is sure his expression says it all, staring gloomily out towards the rooftop, where this Jack person is waiting for him. “...it doesn’t matter, does it? You have your ultimate match.”

Michael sounds like he’s been shot. He’s standing there with his shoulders bowed forward and a miserable look on his face. Alex understands. He’s been feeling the same way.

“Ninety seconds,” Coach’s pleasant voice indicates. “And then it’s time for you to find your forever, Alex Manes.”

“That’s not enough,” Alex protests, but Coach has gone silent.

He wants a lifetime with Michael, not just a paltry ninety seconds. In all the years he’s been in the system, he’s never felt the way he does than when he’s with Michael. He’s never even met his ultimate match, which means it’s not right. It can’t be right, not unless it’s with Michael.

“It’s not right,” he snaps, and stares at Michael.

He’s faced with a fork in the road.

The system works. Right? Except, it hasn’t. It keeps giving him long-term matches with guys that don’t make sense and forces him to spend mere days with Michael. It has to be a test. It has to be some kind of mistake.

“It’s your system,” Michael says dully, while the time ticks down. “This is what you wanted.”

Alex shakes his head, pained. “No,” he whispers. “No. No, you’re what I wanted.”

“Alex, what are you saying?”

Thirty seconds before Alex is supposed to walk out and be paired with someone else and he finally gets it. It’s taken him long enough, but it’s not too late. “I’m saying that you’re right. You were right before, and I was too stubborn and stupid to see it. I wanted to believe that something else knew me better than I know myself, but it was wrong. You were right. We’re together now,” he says, reaching out to grab Michael’s hands in his own. “Run away with me, Michael Guerin.”

Michael could yell at him for wasting their time. He could tell Alex that he’s over him and he wants to move on.

He doesn’t do any of those things.

Instead, he grabs Alex’s neck and hauls him in for a desperate kiss. It’s a kiss Alex has been dreaming about for years. He’s spent nights touching himself and thinking about what Michael would kiss like. He’s fantasized about this moment, built it up in his head, made it into a fairytale, and yet --

The real thing still exceeds his expectations.

No one’s ever kissed him like this. No one’s ever tenderly threaded their fingers through his hair to hold on like he’s a fragile thing that might explode if pushed too hard. No one has made those soft noises like they’re starving and Alex is the best meal they’ve ever had. And no one has ever gently let go of Alex, only to drift back in, like the first time hadn’t been near enough.

This kiss isn’t a thing of fantasy.

It’s real, and if they go, then he can have more.

“I want those every single day,” Alex says roughly, the timer beeping frantically in the background, warning him that non-compliance will result in security arriving to enforce the pairing. “Run away with me,” he says again.

Michael glances over his shoulder to the fire escape. “You ready? This won’t be easy.”

“It’s worth it,” he vows, and grabs Michael’s hand, pulling him along as he bolts away from his supposed ultimate match.

He’s leaving friends and family behind, feeling lighter every step of the way. He and Michael hurry frantically down the stairs, with Michael yanking him eastwards as soon as their feet hit the ground.

“This way!” he coaxes. “I found a weak spot in the wall where we can climb over and escape!”

“How long have you been looking for a way out?”

“Twelve hours and one minute after I met you,” Michael says, breathless as they run faster than Alex has ever run in his life towards their escape.

They could be in real danger. If the guards catch them, they might get penalized with a fine or locked away for breach of contract, but Alex is laughing like he’s having the best day of his life. He feels genuinely free and he’s sprinting as he leads Michael towards the ladder on the wall he’d flagged. The search lights don’t catch this spot, and there are no guards, which means they’ll have a clean run at getting out of here.

Fuck the system, Alex decides. It’s time that he makes his own choices about who’s right for him. He knows that choice is Michael.

“Go!” Michael laughs, pushing at his ass as Alex gets his feet on the ladder, trying to stay quiet as they clamber towards their escape and their lives together.

Does Alex resist a few times, just to get Michael’s hands all over his ass?

That’s between him and the man beneath him.

They’re free and clear as they ascend. Michael’s research has paid off and midway through the climb, Alex throws his device back into the world behind him with Michael’s following in quick pursuit, losing the last thing that could allow them to be tracked. There are no guards to stop them, no search lights, and no devices that will lead anyone to them.

They’re chasing down their own life. The minute they get to the top of the wall, Alex hesitates at the top of it, staring out at the world waiting for them. This feels momentous. It feels like it deserves the right kind of appreciation.

“Regrets?” Michael murmurs, his hand steady on the small of Alex’s back as he finishes the climb and stands beside him.

He shakes his head, knowing that’s not it. “Only that it took so long to do this,” he admits, and looks down. “Jump with me?” he says, knowing that once they do, they can do anything they like.

Michael grins as he stares at the ground. “I already fell in love with you. What’s one more fall?”

Alex gapes at him, that nameless thing in his chest suddenly reaching out to claim Michael’s words to define itself.

Love.

That’s what it is.

He’d fallen in love -- and now, it’s time to take a leap of faith.

“Let’s go.”

It’s a dizzying height, but not high enough to break a leg if you roll right. Alex’s feet hit the ground before he rolls, Michael following with a heavy thump.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” Michael mutters, pushing his hands into the grass as he lets out a sudden yelp, staggering back into Alex’s arms once he’s on his feet. “...or not.”

Alex stares down to see why Michael sounds so alarmed, and understands instantly. Beneath them, all around their little area, the ground beneath them begins to disintegrate. Blades of grass vanish, replaced by a black nothing. Alex stumbles a little and grabs at Michael to hold tight, even though he doesn’t fall. The entire world is going the way of the grass, beginning to vanish out of sight, all while a loud computer voice rumbles around them.

Rebellion successful. 998 rebellions logged within 1000 simulations. Perfect match confirmed.

“What the fuck?” Alex whispers, gaping at the hundreds of other versions of them in his view, as reality sinks in that this isn’t real and he’s no more than a line of code, placed into a simulation to assess his suitability with…

With Michael.

Michael’s staring around him in awe, but then his gaze lands on Alex. “All of this, then? Was it real?”

It felt real for Alex. Every moment of the way, it had felt so real.

“You said you fell in love with me,” Alex says. “The only real thing I know is that I felt it too. Running away with you, it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Michael stares back at him like no one has ever said that kind of thing to him before, reaching for Alex to cup his face, tugging him in for a soft kiss as the voice around them begins to speak again.

“Congratulations,” Coach’s voice comes from the heavens, as the world begins to disintegrate, piece by piece becoming nothing more than pixels and flying away. “Your 99.8% match has been found. Your pairing with Michael Guerin has been successfully and thoroughly tested. Thank you for using the system, where your ultimate match is guaranteed through rigorous and intensive testing. Remember!” is one last cheerful edict, “Rate us in the app store!”

* * *

Alex stares down at his latest match in the dating app.

It’s not a measly forty percent, definitely not the hopeful eighty percent matches he’s had where it could have been right, but something just felt off. Michael Guerin is gorgeous in his profile picture, his curls artfully messy as he stares off to the side so someone can take a picture of his profile. Below his photo, the 99.8% match rate is what puts hope in Alex’s heart, the likes of which he hasn’t experienced since he joined the app.

If he trusts in the algorithm, then this is the one person who is going to be perfect for Alex better than anyone else out there. If he trusts this app, then he’s finally been led to the right match.

Luckily, Alex is a computer programmer and not only has he vetted the system --

He helped to build the algorithm.

He designed the app and its unique test.

He’s the one who’s made sure that the matches are really the right matches.

It’s his turn to reap the rewards.

He’s nervous, because of course he is. Ten years ago, he might have been a catch, but his confidence diminished wildly when he’d had the accident that took his leg from him. He knows the simulations in the app had been an idealized version of himself, but at his core, he had still been Alex Manes when the system had put him up against Michael to test out their compatibility.

The number of legs he has shouldn’t make a difference.

Now, it’s time to meet the man in person.

The song playing on the jukebox comes to a sudden halt. Someone’s put in coins to change it away from what’s currently being played, and it pulls Alex’s attention to the front of the room. The next song begins with gentle guitar chords, as First Day of My Life fills the bar. Alex looks up to the door when he sees a cowboy-hatted figure standing there, searching the room. Beneath it are those curls he’s been staring at on the dating app for ages.

He begins to walk towards Alex as the jukebox plays one of Alex’s favorite songs.

Yours was the first face that I saw  
I think I was blind before I met you

Michael waves at him and he smiles in this bright and beautiful way that makes him look like every worry in the world just washed away. He pries his hat off his head, giving Alex a look at a mangled mess of tendons and scars on his left hand, and crosses the restaurant to sit down opposite Alex, the cowboy hat perched on the back of his chair.

“So,” Michael says, putting his phone down so Alex can see his own profile and the 99.8% match right beneath. “You’re my 99.8%.”

“I am,” Alex agrees, heart pounding in his chest. “I’m Alex Manes.”

“Michael Guerin.”

Alex looks at Michael and feels something in him burst with warmth and conviction, a connection that he’s never felt before. This man doesn’t feel like a stranger to Alex so much as someone he’s known forever and has just been waiting to meet.

__The system really does work._ _

__It’s his turn for a happily ever after, and the statistics don’t lie -- that happy ending is with Michael Guerin and tonight’s the first night of their lives together._ _


End file.
